by Nancy Moser
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too.”
A near-perfect moment. Only one person was missing.
Fourteen
O Sovereign LORD, my strong deliverer,
who shields my head in the day of battle—
do not grant the wicked their desires, O LORD;
do not let their plans succeed,
or they will become proud.
PSALM 140:7-8
ANNIE SPREAD CHERRY PRESERVES on a piece of toast as Cal came into the kitchen, folding some papers in half. “Why aren't you ready, Annie?”
She took a bite and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “The rehearsal isn't until this afternoon. I have plenty of time.”
“What rehearsal?”
I've told him… “The dress rehearsal for the Christmas pageant. Avi and I have to be there at one and—”
Cal tossed the papers on the table. “Oh, this is great.”
“What?”
“You know very well what. You're not going.”
“We have to go. It's required.”
“Required?”
She took another bite. “I don't know what you're so upset about. I told you about this dress rehearsal weeks ago, when Avi and I first started going to choir.” She pointed to the calendar next to the refrigerator. “It's on the calendar.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Well then. Maybe I should write myself onto the calendar so I can have a moment of your precious time.”
“Cal…” He was being ridiculous. And hadn't she wanted them to have special time yesterday while they were putting up the Christmas decorations? He'd chosen not to be involved. “We can do something tomorrow, after the pageant. Go to Eldora and have a nice dinner or—
“You can forget about me going to any pageant.” He grabbed his ski coat and shoved his arms in the sleeves with a swlish, swlish sound.
“But Avi's an angel and—”
His face was flushed. “You can forget about me going to anything you want, when you can't even follow through with your promise to go with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Proof of how I rate. You can't even remember a commitment you made to me yesterday.”
Annie sucked in a breath. “The auction?”
“Yes, the auction. It starts at ten.”
“The auction is today?”
“You know very well it's today.”
Annie popped out of her chair. This couldn't be happening. “I did not know it was today. I would never have agreed to go if I'd known. There's no way I can go to the auction. The rehearsal…”
He picked up the papers and shoved them into the inner pocket of his coat. “Let's get down to it, Annie. There's no way you'll go anywhere I want you to go or do anything I want you to do.”
“Cal, don't be—”
“Right? Don't be right?”
“That's not what I was going to say.”
He took a step toward her, and it took all her will not to compensate by taking a step back. He moved his face to within inches of hers. Confusion filled his eyes. “Ever since this Jesus… You're not my wife anymore.”
“What?” She took that step back.
“You're not the Annie I married. You've changed.”
“For the better. I'm really trying to be the best—”
“Best for whom? Certainly not best for me.”
This was absurd. “Cal, faith shouldn't come between us. It should bring us together. Jesus is helping me be all I can be. Not that I'm perfect—I have a long way to go—but I'm trying really hard to—”
“To break us up. To make me feel the fool. To gang up with my father against me.”
“No!”
He strode to the china cabinet and flung open the door. He pointed to the stack of plates. “I don't know where you're hiding your Bible, but I know you have it. I know you've been reading it.”
He had to stop talking like this. But yes, it was still hidden in Avis cubby, and she was reading it. “The Bible is good, Cal. It's changed everything for me.”
He huffed. “Don't I know it.”
“It's a guidebook. It's—”
He snickered. “A guidebook for judging people.”
She struggled between wanting to crawl into a corner or fling herself at him, arms flailing against his chest. “I don't understand you, Cal. This God hot button you have. Your father believes. He's a little adamant about a few things, and he was wrong ten years ago being so judgmental about me, but we're getting to know each other now. Things will be okay.” She took a fresh breath. “If only you'd share—”
He slammed the cabinet door shut, making the glass rattle. “Don't pretend you know my father because you've spent a few hours with him and fed him pumpkin pie! He and God…” Cal held his hand out like a stop sign. “It's not even Dad's fault. He's just a misguided, bitter man. God turned me against God. It's His fault and His doing.”
“What did—what do you think He did?”
“I will not get into this. This is not about then; it's about now.”
“But then affects now.”
He shook his head. “Now is the only time that's important.” I hats not true.
“It is true!” His voice vibrated in the room. He paced up and back, up and back, then stopped in front of her. “It's moment-of-truth time, Annie. Now.”
“What are you—?”
“It's time you choose.”
Her heart grabbed. “I don't understand.” But I think I do. Oh Lord, I think I do. Please don't let him say it. Please—
“You need to choose between me and God. Between me and your precious Jesus.”
A nervous laugh escaped. “Cal. Don'T be silly.”
His face broke, then contorted, becoming almost fiendish. “I am not being silly! This is life and death. The life and death of us, of our marriage. I can't live with another man in your life. I cannot share you with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I wont share you!”
How had their discussion about schedules gotten to this?
“Choose! Choose now, Annie. Him or me!”
It was a scene in a movie. It had to be a scene in a movie. It couldn't be happening. She tried to keep her tone light. “Surely you can't be giving me an ultimatum.”
“I most certainly can. I'm tired of living separate lives. I do my thing; you and God and Avi do yours. I'm left in the cold, Annie. You've left me out in the cold.”
She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. “I don't mean to, Cal. More than anything I want to share my new life with you. And I truly tried setting God aside, but He wouldn't stay put. I know there's a way for me—for us. You don't know how many times I've wanted to try to explain to you—”
“I don't need your lectures.”
“It wouldn't be a lecture.”
“It would be a lecture. With you telling me how bad I am, telling me I need Jesus, that I need a Savior.”
Her voice was soft. “You do.” She quickly added, “I do. We all do.”
“But some more than others, right?”
Actually… No. Annie couldn't think that way She was no better than Cal. She was happier than Cal, more content. But that was because she had admitted how bad she was, how much she needed a Savior. It wasn't a contest between husband and wife; it was a parallel road. Or it could be. She desperately wanted Cal to be beside her on that road, walking with her, holding her hand. Now and…
“I want to be with you in heaven, Cal.”
He stared at her a moment, then laughed. “There is no heaven.”
His certainty scared her. “Of course there is. And if we have a relationship with God, if we believe Jesus is who He said He is—”
Cal flipped his hands by his ears. “Yada, yada, yada. Christian bunkum.”
“It's not bunkum. Its truth. It's God's promise to us. It's hope. It's life. It's—”
“A pack of lies.”
She felt her own anger rise.
“You are the most stubborn, arrogant, egotistical, proud—”
He applauded. “Keep it up. Calling me names does wonders for a marriage.”
He was right about that one. Lord, help! She took a breath and let it out through her teeth. “I'm sorry about not being able to go to the auction with you. I didn't understand it was today. If I had I wouldn't have—”
“Chosen me.” He dug his keys out of his jeans pocket. “It appears my ultimatum has been accepted and answered. You have made a choice between me and God.”
“No, I—”
“Yes, you have. And God won.” He yanked the kitchen door open. “You've made your choice, Annie. Just don't be surprised when there are consequences.”
“Cal.”
He slammed the door behind him. It took her a good minute to move. What had just happened? A single word repeated itself: No, no, no, no, no…
When she tried to walk to a chair, her legs buckled, and she collapsed into a heap. Her downward momentum continued until she was resting her arms on the floor, her face buried within their folds.
How could God have allowed this to happen? She was truly sorry she'd agreed to go to the auction, but it was an honest mistake. And there was no way she and Avi could miss the dress rehearsal. They'd made a commitment…
What about your commitment to your husband? You are choosing God over Cal.
No. Not really. The majority of her time was here, with Cal.
But was it? God was with her all the time, so even when she was with Cal, she wasn't completely with him.
How can this ever work?
She allowed herself to turn on her side, drawing her knees into a fetal curl, resting her head on an arm. The floor was cold. A tear slid past her hair to the floor. She let it go unimpeded.
God, Im trying to do the right thing, find the right balance. I'm trying not to be a fanatic believer like his father. Im trying to be loving, to be a good wife, but I don't know what to do.
Words came to her like a ticker tape, and she recognized them as coming from Jeremiah: “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know. ”
She managed a soft laugh. Unsearchable things? She'd take it. At the moment she felt as if she knew nothing. Nothing at all. If only God would tell her some unsearchable things, things that went beyond what she could even fathom, much less search for. Things He wanted to tell her.
“Mama? What are you doing on the floor?”
Annie scrambled to stand and turned away so she could wipe her face.
But Avi came around to see. “You've been crying.”
“Daddy and I had a little argument.”
“I heard. Did he knock you down?”
Annie put a hand to Avi's head and drew it to her side. “No, no, sweet-apple. Your daddy wouldn't hurt me. I was just tired. I don't like it when we argue.”
“Me neither.”
Annie hated that their daughter had overheard. She forced a smile. “Are you excited about the rehearsal and getting to wear your costume?”
“Daddy doesn't want us to do it. Maybe we shouldn't.”
Annie took her shoulders and drew her front and center, leaning down to her eye level. “We should do it, Avi. It's a wonderful pageant and a wonderful way to celebrate Jesus' birth.” But it will cost us.
Avi let out a sigh heavy with relief. “Good. ‘Cause I like my halo.”
It was amazing how kids could get back to basics. “Go watch some cartoons. I'll make pancakes, okay?”
Annie got out the skillet. She hoped Cal was successful at the auction. Maybe that would make him forget their argument.
Arid his ultimatum.
Cal paid for gas, a cup of coffee, and a package of chocolate donuts. Some breakfast.
Why did Annie purposely make him mad? She knew the auction was today. Why had she told him she'd go if she had no intention…
It was an honest mistake.
He tore open the package and popped a donut in his mouth whole. No. It was part of a pattern. A pattern where God was deliberately shoving Cal out of the picture, out of his own marriage.
I can't let Him win. God had won before, luring Cal close before He took Treena away. Cal wouldn't let it happen again. He would fight for Annie. Win her back. Make her see that their old life was a good one, the only life for them.
But was it?
Grinding the gears, he pulled onto the street heading to Eldora. He had to calm down. He couldn't do anything about the Annie situation right now. He had other work to do. Work that would gain them the financial security they needed, that would show him as the great provider. Work that would prove what a wonderful man he was.
He sat a little straighter in the seat. He was a wonderful man. If Annie knew what was good for her, she'd realize that.
She'd better.
Cal got his bidding number and gave his ID info at the check-in desk. He was now officially a player. It was going to be a great day. He was entering a nobody and would leave with the means of making himself a somebody. Exciting stuff.
He wandered by the tables of coins and joined the other bidders in making a close inspection. The individual coins were in small plastic cases so the oil from fingers wouldn't further discolor them. Some people used magnifying glasses to check the degree of detail. Cal had no idea what to look for but figured the newer it looked, the better.
He watched as they checked their faxed inventory sheets, making notations on them. He found his in the pocket of his ski coat and followed suit. He'd done his research on the Internet and had painstakingly written down the typical prices for each piece.
He looked for the Barber halves that would make him rich. Another man was looking at them, a man with a ponytail and a goatee. He was wearing a long black leather coat and looked as if he could be a country singer—or a hit man. An odd combination.
The man looked up. “Mornin'.”
“Mornin'.”
He handed Cal one of the coins. “You interested in these?”
Cal wasn't sure it was wise to say, but he said it anyway. “I think so.”
The man's expression changed, as if Cal's status had been upped because of his answer. “You must be a die-hard collector.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Do you have a Barber set?”
No, but I know someone who does. He'd forgotten about the possibility that Scott Wheeler might be at this same auction. He did a quick scan of the room. No Scott.
The man repeated his question. “You have a set?”
“Yes,” Cal said. “I just need three to make it complete.”
“I'm impressed,” said the man. “Once it's complete it will be worth four, five thousand?”
“Sounds about right.”
The man pointed to the chairs. “Want to sit?”
“Sure.”
They moved to the seats. The man sat beside a teenager who was drinking a Mountain Dew. “Did you get anything for me, kid?”
The boy stood. “No. Sorry. What do you want?”
The man turned to Cal. “What's your pleasure? I'm buying.”
“Coffee would be great. Black.”
The kid hesitated and stared at him. The man whapped him on the thigh. “Two coffees.”
“Yeah. I mean yes. I'll be right back.”
The kid left. “That your son?”
“Nephew.”
They got comfortable and hung their jackets on the back of the chairs. The boy returned with the coffees.
“Thanks.”
The man extended a hand to shake. “I should introduce myself. I'm Chuck Wallin. And this is my nephew, Joe.”
Cal shook his hand, then the boys. The boy looked a little nervous. “Nice to meet you. I'm Cal McFay.”
Cal McFay? Was this guy related to Annie McFay, the waitress at the Plentiful? He looked familiar. The image of a white truck with some kind of sign on the side came to mind.
Jered was about to ask when he realized he couldn't.
He didn't want anyone to know wrho he was or that he had ties to Steadfast. That's one reason he was relieved the auction was in Eldora. He never would have gone if it had been in his hometown.
But it was okay. He wasn't Jered Manson. Not here. Not on this day. He was Joe Wallin, nephew of… He looked at Jinko, trying to remember what name he'd given himself. His mind was blank. He'd have to be careful not to call him any name.
The good thing about being a kid around two men was that nobody expected him to join in the conversation—nor did they want him to. He could sit back and listen at will. Children should be seen and not heard. Or they should hear. Listen. Like a bug on a wall.
The trick was not getting squished.
Cal knew his ego was out of control, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. It was so easy to talk to Chuck, and for some reason, he felt the need to brag.
Brag about coins he didn't even own.
By the time the auction started, Cal had implied he owned a set of Barber halves, a bunch of silver proof sets, Morgans and Wheats in plentiful quantities, and even some gold coins. Each time he added a coin to his nonexistent inventory, Chuck treated him better, with more respect. After the argument with Annie, Cal figured he was ripe for some respect and due a double helping.
The auctioneer clipped on his mike and said welcome. The coffee felt like a bad idea in his stomach.
“Here we go,” Chuck whispered.
Cal wasn't sure how it happened. But, accompanied by the backslaps and congratulations of his new friend Chuck, he'd been high bidder on the three Barber halves Scott needed. Plus, he'd spent another twenty-five hundred dollars on additional coins. Nearly all of Annie's inheritance was gone. He wasn't even sure he'd gotten a good deal, but in the midst of buying one lot after another, what he had gotten was attention. He was a big shot. He was somebody. He was a player.
As he wrote out a check to pay for his coins, his hand shook. What will Annie say? kept floating through his mind.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations again, Cal.”
“Thanks, Chuck.”
“You going to celebrate?”
That was the last thing he felt like doing. He shook his head. “I think I'll head home.”
Chuck elbowed him. “Do a little private celebrating with the wife, eh?”